The 83rd Annual Hunger Games
by Mockingjay018
Summary: What if the rebellion never happened? What if Katniss was killed in the games, leaving Peeta the sole victor? Nine years later, a girl from District 7 has the misfortune of being chosen for the games. She will make allies, and she will make enemies. Can she manage to survive? Let the games begin! (First few chapters are a little slow but by chapter 4 it will get good:) I promise)
1. Chapter 1

**Hi readers! This is my first Hunger Games fic and I'm really excited to be posting it! This chapter is more like a prologue chapter, so its kind of short. The other chapters will be longer. Let me know what you think!**

I awake to the sound of the rain tapping on the roof of our house.

"Lovely." I mutter with a groan, before rolling out of bed. It's early in the morning; just before the sun comes up. Usually, I wouldn't be up for another few hours, but who else can sleep on a day like this? It's the reaping for crying out loud! Today is the day twenty three children will be sentenced to their death.

Sighing, I bustle around the kitchen, throwing together whatever I could find to prepare breakfast. I know there's no point, seeing as it would be nearly impossible to stomach food on a day like today, but it keeps me busy.

Not fifteen minutes later I hear the sound of feet padding through the hallway and toward the kitchen. "Keen?" I hear my little sister, Mella, say quietly behind me, "I don't wan' you to go. Or Trist."

I don't even have to ask where she doesn't want us to go; she just turned seven, and is finally begining to understand the process of the reapings and the games.

Sitting her down in my lap I hold her close, "Don't worry, everything will be okay. Tonight, you, me, Tristan, and Cecila will sit down at this table for dinner and nothing will be different."

Cecila is our older sister. She just turned nineteen, so she's no longer in any danger of getting chosen for the games. Tristan, on the other hand, just turned twelve. Even though Cessie has made sure he did not put his name in more than two extra times, I'm still terrified. I mean, everybody heard the story of the girl from district twelve back in the seventy fourth hunger games; her sister's name was only in there once and she still got chosen! If you think about it, though, my name is in there thirty more times than his. Realizing it isn't something to dwell on, I shake my head to clear my thoughts.

"Nothing will be different." I repeat.

Mella looks up at me with her big brown eyes, "You promise?"

I smile, "Cross my heart."

**Like I said, a little on the shorter side, but I think it's a good length for a prologue! I am almost finished with the next chapter, so that will be up in a little bit as well. Let me know what you thought!**

**-L**


	2. Chapter 2- The reapings

**Hi! This is the first official chapter (other than the prologue) of the 83rd Annual Hunger Games! I hope you like it:**

Later that day

Triston and I walk to the sign in booths to be registered. We've just dropped off Cecila and Mella off with our neighbor and closest friend, Naomi, and now it's just the two of us. After stepping through the scanner, we're required to part ways.

"Kie?" he asks, slipping his hand into mine, "Can I stay with you?"

I sigh, "As much as I would love that, we have to separate into age groups. Don't worry; everything will be fine." I say, now pulling him into a hug.

"But-" he mumbles, but is cut off.

"Children," interrupts a peacekeeper, "to your age groups. Now!"

Without getting to say one last thing to Triston, I am pulled away to the sixteen year old section, and him to the twelve year old section.

Our district escort, Elsie Raine, steps up to the microphone and begins to speak. "Ladies and gentlemen of district seven, welcome to the reaping for the eighty-third annual hunger games!" She smiles at the audience, but it's a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. She must be upset that she got one of the worse districts. Oh well, not everyone can get the rich ones.

"Well," she continues, "let's get on with it. Ladies first." Digging her hand in to the glass bowl, she fishes around for a good twenty seconds- which feels like a lifetime to us- before drawing out a small white slip. Slowly she unfolds it and reads off the name.

Kienna Greane

My heart stops. _That's me_, I think,_ oh god, please, no. This can't be happening_.

Slowly, as if in a trance, I manage to find my way out of the crowd and begin my walk towards the stage. I look around, but everyone just seems relieved that it isn't them.

Hearing a small cry come from the spectators section, I look up to see Mella struggling against both Naomi and Cecila who are holding her back. "No!" she cries, tears running down her face, "Please, no!"

Cecila pulls Mella into her arms and holds her there, rocking back and forth and cooing into her ear, letting our little sister sob into her shoulder.

When I finally make it to the stage, Elsie gives me a look of almost pity. "You're Kienna Greane, I presume?" she asks with a hint of sadness in her voice.

I shrug. "Yeah, I am." I say nonchalantly. Even though I am falling apart on the inside, I have to keep my cool. I know the trick of these games; never look scared. It is a weakness.

Elsie's eyebrows go up at my response. I guess she thought I would break down weeping in the middle of the stage. It's not like that's uncommon to see. She decides to pry more, "And that girl, is she your sister?"

"Yeah, she is." I say with the same tone as before, but my voice shakes a little bit.

Elsie keeps looking at me. "So who are your other siblings? Are you going to miss them in the games?" she asks, each question bending my resistance a little more.

I finally break. "I don't believe the interviews are right now," I snap, "so excuse me when I say: get on with it!" Now I'm fuming; so much for keeping my cool.

Elsie grins. "Ooh, we've got some spunk in this one!" she says, clapping her hands together, "Save some of that fire for the games themselves," she giggles, but stops when I send her the coldest glare I can muster.

She laughs nervously and turns towards the boy's bowl. "And now for the gentlemen." she said loudly, reaching in and pulling out a slip. Putting her hand over her mouth she mutters, "Oh my goodness," and glances up at me. "And the male tribute is..." she pauses, as if trying to increase the suspense. Taking a deep breath she says, loudly, "Triston Greane!"

Whatever color I had left in my face drained. _No_, I thought, _not Triston. Please, anyone but Triston_.

Any anger I had been feeling towards Elsie instantly washes off, and I am left feeling hopless. I have to comfort him. The second he reaches the stage I push past Elsie, causing her to stumble back a little in her tall black heels, and pull him into a hug.

It doesn't take long, though, for Elsie to push her way between us. "Now won't this be fun!" she chirps, "Brother and sister, fighting to win..." she sighs, as if picturing it already, "Oh!" she says, remembering, "I almost forgot: any volunteers?" Nothing. It's not like it's that expected for someone to volunteer. I mean, who would willingly go off to almost certain death? Not me, but I didn't have a choice. "Ok great!" she says, "You two can now sha-"

"I volunteer!" comes a small voice from the middle of the crowd. As the crowd parts, I can see that that voice belongs to a little boy from the thirteen year old section.

"Oh!" exclaims Elsie, genuinely surprised. "Well, uh, here's an unexpected turn of events!" I guess she isn't trained in how to handle volunteers. I don't blame her; it's not like in district seven there are a lot of people willing to rush in and fight for their lives.

The little thirteen year old makes his way up to the front, tripping over his own feet as he climbs the steps. He walks up until he is positioned next to Triston and stands there, saying nothing. I notice how even though he's a year older, the boy is still almost a head shorter than my brother.

"Triston, go back to your spot" I whisper. Stunned, Triston nods and makes his way off of the stage.

"And what might your name be?" asks Elsie.

Standing on his tiptoes to reach the microphone, the boy says, "Jaylan Daniels, thirteen." I'm shocked by the fact that he could keep his voice steady, no hint of terror at all.

"And, um, why did you volunteer?" ased Elsie, looking him over and taking into account his small, muscle-less body, "You don't seem like much of a fighter."

Jaylan shrugs, "I'm not." he says, "But I will not stand to see family fighting each other to the death. Not if I can help it." he finishes, solemn.

Elsie a gives a sad smile, but doesn't continue. "You may now shake hands." she says, but she doesn't seem as cheery as before. Is she really that upset that me and Triston aren't going to be fighting against each other?

I turn to Jaylan and hold out my hand, which is shaking slightly. He grasps it firmly and shakes it. Meeting his eyes I quietly whisper, "Thank you."

He nods once and turns back to the audience.

For the last time, Elsie holds the microphone up to her lips. "District Seven!" she calls, "I now present you with Kienna Greane and Jaylan Daniels; your tributes for the eighty-third annual hunger games!"

**Well, there it is! What did you think? Please review and let me know!**

**Until next time,**

**-L**


	3. Chapter 3- Goodbyes

**Hi again. This here is chapter 3 of the 83rd annual hunger games. I hope you like this chapter!**

"District seven! I now present you with Kienna Greane and Jaylan Daniels; your tributes for the eighty-third annual hunger games!"

Almost immediately after she said that me and Jaylan were whisked away to different rooms inside of the mayor's building. This was where we were supposed to say our goodbyes. As expected, my family was the first to come.

Since they do not want big groups going in to find some way to prevent a tribute from competing, which, strangely enough, was attempted not many years ago, the rule is now that no more than one person may visit at a time. That means I have to face each member of my family one by one.

The first one sent in was little Mella. I held out my arms and she rushed forward, letting me envelope her in a hug. "Kienna, why?!" she sobs, "You promised you wouldn't get picked! You crossed your heart!"

"Shh, shh. I know, I know." I whisper, holding her tight.

She leans back and wipes her eyes. "You gotta win." she says, "If you don't, there won't be anyone to tell me stories or read me books."

I smile sadly at her. "If, no, not if, when I come back, I will have with me the best story you will ever hear."

"You are going to come home again, right?" she asks, looking up at me.

Saying nothing, I silently pull her into a hug. She rests her head on my neck, crying into my shoulder. I rock her back and forth, just like I do when she has nightmares, and softly repeat over and over again, "It's okay. Everything is going to be okay." I don't know if I am saying it to her or to myself.

After she left, Triston came in. He was silent, probably still in shock from nearly entering the games, but nonetheless he came and sat next to me, resting his head on my shoulder. We sat like that for a few minutes, letting the silence consume us. When he finally spoke up, his voice was raw, as if he had been crying. He probably was, before he came in. "I was supposed to go with you." he says, "We were going to go in together."

"I know," I say, looking at him, "but at least this way one less person from our family will die."

He takes his head off of my shoulder and looks me in the eye. "No." he says harshly, "It means no one from our family will die."

"I'm sorry Triss," I say, "but I probably won't make it home alive." He is old enough now to know that ugly truth, even though I didn't say it for Mella.

Shaking his head, Triston says, "Please, promise me you will win."

I sigh. "Okay, I promise." I say, even though I know it is not true.

"Promise what?"

"I promise I will win the games." I finish.

He looks satisfied. "Good," he says, "you promised. No going back on it."

"Alright," I say, hugging him, "and one more thing: before we leave, make sure you go in to see that boy, Jaylan. He practically gave his life for you. Please thank him."

As he begins to walk out, Triston says, "I will. And when you're in there, please don't kill him." I nod.

Next in is Cecila. She walks up and takes my hands in hers, and we stay there. "You're going to be okay," she says, "you can win." but she doesn't sound sure of it herself.

"No I'm not!" I say, beginning to cry. I am so happy the little ones don't have to see me like this. "I can't even fight!"

Cecila looks at me. "True," she says, "but you are smart. Brains beats brawn every day."

"Not when brawn has a dagger at your neck." I mutter.

"Stop that!" she says harshly, "You need to think like a fighter. Learn your competitors; figure out their strengths and weaknesses. Figure out the holes in their training: use them to your advantage. You're a smart girl, Kienna: you can do this." she finishes, pulling me into a hug

A peacekeeper comes in to signal that she has to leave. As she reaches the door she turns. "I love you sis," she says, "you can win." and the door closes, leaving me alone.

"Love you too." I whisper to the now empty room.

Over the course of the next half hour I am visited by almost all of my friends. Most of them are crying, and I feel guilty knowing I have caused that grief.

The last person in is a girl I barely know. Her name is, gosh what is her name? Oh that's right, her name is Mercy. Ironic considering I will be begging for mercy at the hands of the careers once the games begin.

She stands in the doorway, looking awkward. "So, um, how are you?" she asks.

"Oh I am fabulous!" I say sarcastically, "Nothing I love more than being sentenced to death."

She steps farther into the room. "You don't know you're going to die." she says quietly.

I scoff. "Oh yes I do."

She shrugs. "You never know."

We sit there in silence for a little bit.

"So," she says, trying to break the quiet, "what did you decide to bring for your token?"

Crud, I think to myself. "I don't have one," I say, "I've been a little preoccupied lately."

"Oh." she says. She thinks for a second, and then reaches up and unclasps her necklace. "Well than take this, it can be your token." she finishes, holding out her hand.

I am surprised. "No, I couldn't possibly! That's yours." I say, shaking my head.

She nods. "I know, but every tribute deserves a token. I am the last visitor, so no one else can bring you one. You deserve to have some reminder of home when you go into the arena. Please take it."

I take it from her hand and pull her into a hug. She stiffens at first, but then relaxes and hugs me back. "Thank you." I whisper.

Once she has left I look at the necklace in my hand. It is a small heart, made of many thin, intertwined wires weaving in and out of each other. I clasp it around my neck and sigh. It feels good to know that even though I will probably die in these games, all of these people cared enough to say goodbye.

**Did you like it? Review please, even if you didn't! Just one request: if you don't like it, please say what you don't like about it so I know what to change/fix/add. Other than that, let me know what you thought!**

**-L**


	4. AN

**Sorry, but no new chapter today. I just wanted to let you know that for anyone who has been following this story, I went back and edited the chapters before this. You might want to go back and read them again or you are probably going to be kind of confused. I didn't like how the story was coming out so far, so I changed the parts I didn't like. Sorry again that this isn't a new chapter, but on the bright side a new chapter will probably be up sometime between this weekend and next weekend.**

**Another thing: I have all of the names ready for the majority of the tributes in the arena that I am planning to use, but I need one or two more. If you have any names for tributes let me know! (the one I'm looking for is a 15 year old girl from district 2)**

**Thanks!**

**-L **


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